


Allegro Appassionato

by pinksnowboots



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: At least I think it's canon compliant..., Backstory, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Coming of Age, Gen, Yuri is an interesting and complex character and he deserves to be treated as such
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinksnowboots/pseuds/pinksnowboots
Summary: There are many things that four-year old Yuri Plisetsky doesn't understand.He doesn't understand why he doesn't have a father, or why his mother always looks like she's searching for something that's just out of sight even though nothing's lost. He doesn't understand why his friends' parents look at him with pity when he goes to their house to play. He doesn't understand why he always felt different than the other children, as if something he can't see and can't name held him back from being like them, from being normal.But he does understand that he was born to be on the ice.





	1. Accelerando

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri is one of my favorite characters on the show and I think he's an amazingly complex and interesting character (as you can tell from the fact that I basically [wrote an essay about him](http://chunjibolton.tumblr.com/post/154700088923/ode-to-yuri-plisetsky) on tumblr). This is basically that, but in fic form.
> 
> A couple quick notes:
> 
> Allegro Appassionato in B Minor is the music for Yuri's free skate. Allegro is a musical direction to play lively and fast. Appassionato is an Italian term used in music which is defined as telling the musician to perform with a great amount of emotion. The chapter title, Accelerando, is a musical notation indicating to gradually quicken tempo.
> 
> Since (as far as I know) we don't know much about Yuri's parents, I'm borrowing from Yulia Lipnitskaya's life, since Yuri is loosely based on her. In this fic, Yuri's father left before he was born, and his mother and grandfather raised him.

There are many things that four-year old Yuri Plisetsky doesn't understand.

He doesn't understand why he doesn't have a father, or why his mother always looks like she's searching for something that's just out of sight even though nothing's lost. He doesn't understand why his friends' parents look at him with pity when he goes to their house to play. He doesn't understand why he always felt different than the other children, as if something he can't see and can't name held him back from being like them, from being normal.

But there are some things that Yuri does understand, like the fact that Grandpa's pirozhki always makes him feel better, and that Grandpa's hugs make him feel safe.

Even more importantly, he understands the sound of blades gliding over fresh ice and the way that his body feels more graceful, more _right_ , when he's on the ice. He understands that when he's skating, he can do things that he couldn't do otherwise, like move so fast he can almost imagine that he's flying, flying away from the harshness of the Russian winter and his mother's constantly-searching eyes.

He understands that he was born to be on the ice.

 

* * *

 

Yuri's grandpa takes him skating for the first time when he's four. After they leave the rink, Yuri begs and begs until Grandpa promises to take him back the next day. And the next. And all the days after that, until Grandpa agrees to sign him up for skating lessons.

Yuri is a quick learner; he learns how to control his starts and stops, how to turn on a dime, and how to skate fast enough to leave his classmates behind. He wants to learn to jump and spin like the older kids can, like he's seen Victor Nikiforov do on tv. His coach tells him that he's too young, that he'll learn that in time.

That answer isn't acceptable, so Yuri begs his grandpa to take him to the rink on weekends. Secretly, he tries to teach himself to jump and spin like Victor Nikiforov. He covers himself in bruises and scrapes and Grandpa warns him that if he keeps hurting himself, he'll have to stop skating.

Not skating anymore sounds like the worst thing in the world to Yuri, so he stops trying to push himself past what the coach says is allowed, at least when Grandpa is watching. But his secret practicing helps him excel in his lessons.

Soon, Yuri learns that the other students will never be able to catch up to him.

“Grandpa, did you see me?” Yuri asks as he and his grandpa walk home from the rink. “I was the best in the class, wasn’t I?”

“Of course you were, Yuroshka.” His grandfather replies, tousling his hair.

“I’ll be even better tomorrow, just you wait!” Yuri promises, tiny fist pumping with excitement.

His grandfather smiles fondly, “I know you will.”

 

* * *

 

As Yuri leaves four behind, and moves on to five, to six, to seven, he learns that his skating makes adults look at him with admiration instead of pity. He learns that if he pretends to be patient, his coach will teach him new things faster, special things that only Yuri can do.

He also learns that being the best makes some of the other kids want to be his friend, but it makes more of them mad, sometimes mad enough to hurt him.

Yuri learned that being the best made the adults look at him with admiration instead of pity. That learning fast made the coach teach him new things faster, special things that only Yuri could do.

Sometimes Yuri returns home with bruises in places that he hasn't fallen on. 

"Yuroshka, what happened?" Grandpa asks, concerned, "Did you take a bad fall in practice today?

“When I get bigger,” Yuri declares in lieu of answering, “I’m going to get them back. I’ll lift weights and be strong and if they every touch me again, I'll hurt them twenty times more than hey hurt me!”

“Oh Yuroshka,” his Grandfather enfolds him in a hug almost soft enough and safe enough to dampen his fury. “Don’t you know that the best revenge is to live well?”

“Fine,” Yuri said, a challenge in his voice. “I’ll live well then. Better than them. I'll live the best. I'll _be_ the best. That'll show them.”

 

* * *

 

When Yuri finally starts entering contests, he immediately starts winning contests, and things begin to change. He has his own private coach rather than sharing a coach with all the children whose parents shipped them off to skating lessons to get them out of the house in the afternoon. His mother still seems to look through him sometimes, but she sees the prizes he wins and tells him that she's proud, and Grandpa never misses a single event. The bullying doesn't stop, but it changes to words rather than fists under the watchful eyes of Yuri's coach.

Yuri feels like he's discovered the secret to life: Be the best, and no one can hurt you.

He tells his grandpa his secret one day as they walk home, lowering his voice conspiratorially as he informed Grandpa that he wasn't going to cry ever again because he was going to keep winning, and no one can hurt a winner.

“Be careful Yuroshka,” his grandfather warns. “Maybe no one can hurt a winner, but he can hurt himself.”

“That makes no sense.” Yuri retorts, petulant.

Grandpa may know almost everything, Yuri thinks, but for once he's wrong. When he wins, his coach congratulates him and teaches him new things. Some of the other students congratulate him and the rest keep their hands, if not their words, to themselves. Grandpa cheers for him, yelling his name from the stands, and when his mother comes to his competitions, she smiles. 

When he skates, the entire audience comes alive because of him. They tell him that he's good, that he's the best, that he matters, and the rush of their applause feels almost as good as Grandpa's hugs.

Yuri is young, but he knows that when he practices hard, he wins, and when he wins, he doesn't hurt. So he's going to keep on practicing, keep on winning, and keep from hurting ever again. 

 

 


	2. Dissonance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My initial plan was to make this chapter much longer and get from here to Yuri moving to St. Petersburg to train, but I got sidetracked and then almost fell asleep while writing this, so I figured I'd post what I have for now and pick up on the rest tomorrow (or whenever I next have the chance).
> 
> As always, if you have any comments/questions/suggestions/etc, I would be ecstatic to hear them. My knowledge of ballet and figure skating are both minimal, so feel free to correct me if I make any mistakes there. I'm also a stickler for characterization in books, tv, etc as well as other people's fanfic, so if you have any suggestions or commetns about my characterization of Yuri, feel free to tell me that too!

 

 

 

Yuri's abnormally short childhood is measured in milestones and competitions, the day-to-day blurring together in a constant cycle of practice, practice, practice, performance, repeat.

 

When Yuri is seven, his coach pushes him to enroll in ballet classes, claiming that they'll improve his flexibility and teach him how to move his body gracefully.

"Yuri is technically very talented," she tells his grandfather, "but there's a tension in his skating that he never lets go of, as if he's angry at something."

"Sometimes I am angry." Yuri cuts in even though they're obviously talking about him rather than to him. Just like English, social grace is something that he understands well enough to recognize when others use it, but not well enough to use it himself. Or maybe it's not that he doesn't understand it, but that he doesn't want to, his head already too full of skating and fiery emotions like anger and joy.

Yuri's coach looks at his grandfather as if to say,  _See? This is exactly what I'm talking about._ She waits, probably for his grandfather to scold him so she can pretend that she doesn't. 

"You heard him." Grandpa's voice is calm, but firm. "Sometimes he is angry. Can't you work that into his skating? There's grace to be found in anger too."

 

Later, as they're walking home and Yuri is feeling smug that Grandpa took his side, Grandpa tells him that he will indeed be enrolling in ballet classes.

"It's ok to be angry, Yuroshka, but your coach is right. Ballet will help you express your anger even more beautifully."

"Fine," Yuri says, sullen in a token protest even though he knew it was a foregone conclusion from the moment ballet was mentioned. "But only because I want to show her that anger can be beautiful."

"Yuroshka," his grandfather pauses, turning a question over in his mind. "Can you tell me why you're angry sometimes?"

Yuri ducks his head, unable to meet his grandfather's eyes.

"I don't know." He says, and it's only half a lie.

 

If Yuri's anger before was a formless, thing, crackling in the pit of his stomach like the embers of a fire that were stoked by his classmates' taunts, a failed jump, or his mother not being home for the third night in a row, his anger after beginning ballet classes was like bolt of lightning: narrow and brief, but intense, with the potential to ignite fires all over the surrounding area.

On good days, skating felt as easy as breathing. Ballet, on the other hand, felt like trying to breathe underwater. It was as if he was learning to walk all over again, but worse; when you learn to walk, you don't know what you're missing out on because you've never done it before. Yuri knew what it felt like to be the person who defined where the limits of possible were in his own universe, and to be forced back to the basics felt like torture.

Yuri tries to move too fast, to skip the endless drills of basic forms and go on to the more advanced steps as soon as possible, just like he did with skating. But ballet is nothing like skating and he falls more than he ever has on the ice. His teacher warns him that he cannot keep on like this, but he doesn't listen until he twists an ankle and can't dance or skate for two weeks.

For the first part of these two weeks, Yuri lies in bed, seething with rage. He resents having to take ballet in the first place, and he resents even more the fact that he's not good at it. Most of all, he resents that this thing that he does not love has prevented him from doing the thing that he does love.

When he was younger, Yuri was terrified of thunderstorms. Whenever one would start up, his grandfather would come sit with him and tell him stories until the thunder subsided and he was calm enough to believe his grandfather's reassurance that everything will be alright.

While he is bedridden and angry, Yuri wishes fervently hat his grandfather would come sit with him and tell him that it will all be alright, that he can quit ballet, that he's still the best the world will ever see. But Grandpa has to work most of the day and in the evening he steers clear of Yuri until the storm clears, and Yuri eventually wears himself out with anger and sleeps more deeply than he has in years.

When he wakes up, all of his anger has turned to fatigue.

"Have you learned your lesson now, Yuri?" his grandfather asks.

"Yes, Grandpa," Yuri lies.

He feels like he has learned a lesson, but he thinks it's probably not the one that he was supposed to learn. Yuri guesses that the lesson was supposed to be about letting go of anger when you have to do something that you don't want to do, or about being patient because you can't be good at everything, or about approaching new things with an open mind.

The lesson that Yuri actually learned is that anger is one of the forces that keeps him going, along with ambition. But without strategy, anger and ambition are nothing.

And unfortunately, he realizes that ballet needs to be part of that strategy.

 

Yuri gets to ballet class early on the first day that he's allowed to start exercising again and apologizes to his teacher. Even though he doesn't quite understand what he's apologizing for since he was the one who got hurt, she seems happy.

He mentally notes that apologies can be a useful tool even if they're not quite genuine.

Since he is just coming off of being injured, his teacher makes him focus on stretches and basic forms for a few days. Yuri expects that he'll be bored out of his mind, waits for the anger to strike again, but maybe some of his anger leaked away while he was lying around for two weeks, because the lightning never strikes.

On the contrary, it feels so good to be able to move his body again that he finds himself enjoying every stretch with a rush of almost euphoric glee as he pushes the stretches just a little bit further, just a little bit deeper. He barely notices time passing until he glances in the mirror and sees the other students leaving. He knows he probably should leave too, that Grandpa will be waiting, but his leg is extending almost straight up in the air and it's been too long since he's moved like this, since he's moved at all, and he holds the stretch til the last student leaves.

This time, when Yuri starts to jump again, in the ballet studio as well as on the ice, he doesn't fall. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More will actually happen soon, I *promise*. Now that the final episode's out, I know that Otabek first saw Yuri at a ballet class, apparently, so Otabek will be in here (briefly) as soon as I get around to writing about Yuri's move to St. Peterburg.


	3. Etude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri moves to St. Petersburg and realizes that he is not the center of the every universe.

By the time Yuri turns ten, he is addicted to skating. For a boy used to living in the periphery of people's visions and thoughts, the feeling of skating for people who all are focused on him alone is intoxicating; he comes to crave the feeling of eyes on him and the power he had to hold them there.

Of course, their attention means that if he falls, everyone sees that too. But that's not a problem as long as he doesn't fall.

On his tenth birthday, his grandfather tells him that if Yuri wants, they'll move to St. Petersburg to continue Yuri's training in a city with better rinks, a better coach, better skaters to train with, and more opportunities. 

Yuri thinks it's the best birthday present that he's ever gotten. Like a bird stuck in a cage too small to fully stretch his wings, he's outgrown his hometown. Yuri wants to find out what his wingspan really is, and in order to do that he has to fly.

When they actually arrive in St. Petersburg and move into a tiny apartment that will be their new home, Yuri realizes that maybe this city is too large, and if he tries to fly he might get swept away. So he reduces his world to a manageable size: the apartment, his school, the park that he passes on the way to the grocery store, the ballet studio, and most importantly, the skating rink.

Just because Yuri's world is small doesn't mean that the rest of the world doesn't have a way of sneaking in. Yuri begins his new training regimen with an intensive summer training camp led by Yakov Feltsman, coach to Russia's best and brightest skaters, including the one and only Victor Nikiforov. The word "camp" makes Yuri think of all the summer camps that he never got to go to because he was too busy at the rink or the studio, or helping Grandpa make dinner. He doesn't know exactly what camp entails for most kids, but he's pretty sure it doesn't involve intensive conditioning, ballet, and a strictly regimented diet on top of an even stricter training regimen on the ice.

Yuri doesn't mind the hard work or the long hours; what he minds is the fact that the other skaters in the camp come from all over the world, from America to China to several other countries that Yuri's never heard of and isn't sure if they're real. The skaters are all as driven as he is and some are just as talented. Yuri feels at loose ends because he's not used to being looked at as just one person in a crowd, and he doesn't like it.

At least in ballet class, he still stands out; many of the others are only just starting ballet as a supplement for their skating, but Yuri has three years under his belt and it shows. He can stretch a little further, move a little more gracefully than the others. He's better than the others, good enough that people take notice, but can't put their finger on exactly why. Yuri gets used to feeling eyes on him during class as the other students size him up, checking out his form or looking for weaknesses.

The gazes in ballet class start as soon as Yuri does; on the first day of the training camp, he's warming up at the barre when the back of his neck starts prickling like it always does when someone's starting hard enough to bore a hold in his head. He ignores it, used to drawing attention based on the combination of his striking appearance and remarkable talent; if he got distracted every time someone started, he'd never get anything done.

Yuri's almost forgotten about the staring when he glances at the mirror and finds himself making eye contact with the starer, a boy with scruffy black hair who appears older and taller than Yuri but still cannot seem to figure out how to get into second position without help.

Yuri doesn't avert his eyes and neither does the starer. Their gazes remained locked until someone accidentally taps the starer from behind and he falls over, collapsing at a slight touch as if his center of gravity moved without informing him of the change in address.

The starer doesn't fare much better in the rest of the class; he steps too heavy, his form is off, and he can't feel the rhythm of the music. It's painful for Yuri to watch the starer, so he doesn't, looking at himself in the mirror to make sure his form is perfect and staunchly ignoring the occasional prickling on his neck. 

The next day the starer does not come to class, but by then Yuri has already forgotten him. 

Yuri remembers him when he sees him occasionally around the training camp. Despite obviously being older than Yuri, he's skating with Yuri's age bracket, but with a different class. Yuri wonders why this is for a moment, but then lets the thought pass through him and leave as quickly as it came.

Learning the starer's name never crosses his mind, so Yuri never does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally meet Otabek! At least briefly, although I do plan to come back to him later. At the rate this is going, much later. Again, I meant to write more but I didn't start writing til very late and I'm too tired to write anything worth reading after I finished this up. 
> 
> At least we finally got to St. Petersburg! And when I get the time and energy to add on a bit, I think the next chapter is going to involve Victor, at least briefly.
> 
> I know this chapter was very short, but as always, comments are incredibly appreciated! As are questions/conerns/suggestions/etc!


	4. Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is not a kitten. He is a tiger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got some of the stuff I've had in my head for the past week down-I have a few more things I wanted to include, but I think they'll fit better in another chapter that's more focused on Yuri and Victor's interactions. 
> 
> By the way, thank you so much to everyone who's commented or left kudos so far! Y'all make me so happy, seeing new comments yesterday was the best Christmas gift I could've asked for <3
> 
> I don't think I have any other notes to add, other than that I love Yuri Plisetsky with all my heart and soul (in case you couldn't tell that already).

There are a lot of things that Yuri likes about being in St. Petersburg. He likes that the summer camp classes move at a faster pace than the ones back home, where half the kids were just there because their parents wanted them out of the house. He likes that the other skaters are all good, much better than the ones back home, and that sometimes they teach him new things that the coaches refuse to teach a student as young as him. Even when no one will teach him, he's got plenty of talented skaters to watch and more often than not, he can start figuring it out himself. He likes that the skating rinks are bigger and better than they were back home. 

Yuri especially likes that now that he's here, everyone takes him seriously, because only serious skaters move away from their homes to train. Plus, even in the classes here, he's one of the best.

On the other hand, there are also things he doesn't like about St. Petersburg. He doesn't like that the skaters at the training camp are from all over the world and speak English most of the time. He doesn't like the older skaters who all think they're going to be famous as soon as they get out of the junior division, especially since he can tell that most of them are wrong. 

He doesn't like that here, he's only one of the best, rather than  _the_ best. 

In his hometown, nobody could even come close to him, but the rink in St. Petersburg is filled with skaters whose goal is to skate in the Olympics, in the Grand Prix, in the World Championships, and they’re here to do anything they can to achieve that goal. Many of them are older than he is, or they’ve been here longer than he has, and as much as it hurts him to admit it, they’re better.

Academically, Yuri had known that he’d be among better skaters, but it hadn’t been real to him. He’d gotten so used to being not only the best, but the most ambitious, the most determined, the most hardworking that he didn’t have any idea how to act when he wasn’t the most anything except for the most new. He’s intimidated, and realizing that only makes him angrier because he feels like he shouldn’t be intimidated by these people.

When Yuri loses his first competition since moving to St. Petersburg, coming in 4th in his division by less than five points, he takes off his skates and throws them against the wall. It’s childish, throwing a temper tantrum, but it’s better than crying.

He looks up when he hears slow clapping coming from the door of the locker room and sees the gold medalist, a boy from Canada who is two years older than him, has been training in St. Petersburg for almost three years, and is constantly sporting a grin that could turn cruel with one twitch of a muscle.

“Throwing a temper tantrum? Poor little kitten!” He says. 

Yuri's English isn't the best, but he knows enough to know when he's being mocked.

“Fuck off!” Yuri growls, using one of the words that Grandpa says he’s not supposed to know.

“Ooooh,” The other boy’s grin turns properly cruel and Yuri does his best not to feel scared. “Fiesty! This kitten has claws. But still, it’s in your best interest to leave these competitions to the big dogs.”

He dips out, giggling and obviously pleased with himself, as Yuri mumbles in Russian, low and murderous, “I do have claws motherfucker, come over here and I’ll show you.”

Yuri wishes that would be the end of it, but the other boy is a rink mate and a ringleader to boot, and he and his cronies seem to have decided that mocking Yuri is their new favorite hobby. They call him cute and childish, they laugh when he falls, they make fun of his broken English and they meow at him in the locker room.  

Sure, Yuri likes cats, but he doesn't like assholes, and he doesn't like this.

He ignores it as much as he can, but the mockery brings back the anger that he'd temporarily shed when he'd first moved. He tries not to let it affect him, but unlike his skating, his emotions have never been something he can totally control, and he feels the hurt and anger deeply and violently.

He tries to keep his pain a secret from his grandfather, but the day that the Canadian boy and his cronies vandalize Yuri's locker, his grandfather comes home to find him punching his pillow and swearing in two languages.

"Yuroshka," he says softly, as if approaching a wounded animal likely to lash out at anyone trying to help, "What's wrong?"

Yuri tends to get angry when he's upset, but this has been going on for too long, and he's just tired, so fucking tired. He means to tell Grandpa what's going on, to yell and scream because that's how he feels about it, but all that comes out is tears.

Grandpa comes to sit beside him on the bed and strokes his back, lets him cry.

Eventually Yuri catches his breath enough to speak, "The other boys at the rink, they bully me. They make fun of my English and my height and they call me a kitten." Yuri spits the word "kitten" like it's the vilest insult he can think of.

"Oh Yura," Grandpa says. "Don't you know that they're just jealous of you?"

"I know they're jealous of me but I don't care, if they're jealous they should just get better."

"Well," Grandpa says. "If they're not going to work to get better, then you'll have to. They can laugh all they want now, but making them watch you surpass them is the best revenge you can get."

"Hmmm, maybe." Yuri considers the idea. "I'd still rather punch them."

Grandpa laughs and hugs him and Yuri decides not to tell him that it wasn't a joke at all.

The next day Yuri comes home and finds a stuffed tiger sitting on his bed.

"Grandpa, what's this? Is this for me?" Yuri asks, clutching the tiger in his arms.

"Of course it's for you," Grandpa replies. "It's to remind you that you're not a kitten; you're a tiger, and nothing anyone else says can change that."

"A tiger." Yuri repeats, turning the words over in his head, testing out how they feel on his lips. "I'm a tiger."

"You certainly are," Grandpa agrees, a smile on his lips.

Yuri's still angry with his bullies. It's not fair for them to mock him for nothing other than being younger, smaller, more delicate than most of them, but still showing more promise. It's not fair that they can be allowed to affect him like this, in a way that hurts his feelings and his concentration, and therefore his performance.

It's not fair, so Yuri sets out to fix it. He's not going to curl up in a corner and cry, like a child or a kitten. He's going to be a tiger.

He can't make them stop mocking him, because he's learned from experience that the more he protests, the more they laugh. Ironically, it reminds him of a cat, toying with a mouse because it's more fun when their prey struggles. But what he can do is refuse to let their taunts impact him. He uses his anger to fuel him, to keep him going to practice a jump or a spin just one more time even when his muscles are aching from exhaustion, to stretch just a little further in ballet class, to help him keep his face stony even when someone calls his name with a cruel voice.

Tigers are dangerous because of their grace, and Yuri learns to move with deadly grace. Whenever someone calls him a child, he tells himself that he's going to break records at a younger age than any of the previous record holders. When someone laughs when he falls, he pictures his anger as a fire in his belly, burning the fuel that lets him get up and try again. When someone calls him a kitten, his inner tiger roars.

Soon, Yuri goes from being one of the best to being  _the_ best. His inner tiger purrs at the revelation, and his outer self smiles, satisfied and just a tiny bit smug.

* * *

 

Yuri first sees Victor Nikiforov in person at the end of the summer training camp. Yakov has arranged for Victor to perform his short program for all the participants in the training camp, to inspire them to keep skating and, Yuri things, to show off his prized pupil. 

Victor is shorter than Yuri imagined he would be, but that tends to be the case with childhood heroes. He takes the ice wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and it's so different than the Victor Nikiforov that Yuri's watched avidly on television for as long as he can remember that it's jarring. The Victor he's used to seeing wears makeup and flashy costumes, gives perfectly poised press conferences and interviews, and only exists on television. This Victor is dressed the same clothes Yuri practices in (but, Yuri notes, Victor's sweatpants are much uglier) and before he enters the rink, he says something to Yakov that makes Yakov turn red and snap at Victor as he skates away, laughing a laugh that Yuri's never heard before despite having heard Victor laugh at interviewers' bad jokes hundreds of times. This Victor is real.

Victor skates over to the edge of the rink where he and the other skaters are sitting, and Yuri swears that several girls almost faint. 

"Hi, I'm Victor Nikiforov," he says, waving and grinning a rather stupid looking grin. "I don't know if you've heard of me, but I'm one of Yakov's figure skaters."

It's a terrible joke, but everyone laughs anyway. Yuri is surprised to find that he's laughing too, even though as soon as Victor started speaking to them, the television-Victor persona returned.

"The theme for my program this year is the myth of Icarus and Daedalus. In case you don't know the story, Daedalus was a master craftsman, and he made wings out of wax and feathers so that he and his son could fly. Before giving Icarus the wings, he warned him not to fly too high. Icarus was so excited about the feeling of flying that he ignored his father's warning and he flew so high that the sun melted his wings and he fell to his death."

Victor's smile never wavers, incongruous with the darkness of the story. Yuri sees several confused faces around him, either because of the darkness of the story or because of Victor's quick and slightly accented English. 

"My short program and free skate express the feeling of this story." Victor continues. "My short program is about the euphoria of flying, and my free skate is about falling back to earth."

Victor gestures for Yakov to start the music, and it's as if he transforms. Yuri forgets that Victor is wearing ugly sweatpants and that his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed, because as soon as Victor starts skating all that matters is the way that he moves. 

There's a reason that Victor is famous. On top of his routine being technically impeccable, his stage presence is undeniable. Yuri's seen him on TV countless times, has watched and rewatched videos of Victor to analyze just how he pulls off a quad or a challenging step sequence, but seeing him in person is a completely different experience. Seeing Victor skate on the very same ice that Yuri just skated on earlier that day pulls at something in his chest, a longing feeling that Yuri can't quite define. 

Victor says in almost every interview that he gives that his biggest goal is to surprise his audience, and in this respect his program is a huge success. Victor's program clearly tells his story, and his jumps seem to get higher and higher as the program goes on, and Yuri pictures a young bird just learning how to fly, ecstatic over his newfound abilities and swooping and soaring just because he can.

By the end of the performance, Yuri is on the edge of his seat, leaning forward so far that he almost falls on top of the person in front of him. As Victor strikes his final pose and everyone around him erupts into cheers, Yuri realizes that he's not breathing. 

"Thank you, thank you!" Victor takes a bow, suddenly turning back into TV-interview-Victor. "I hope you enjoyed the performance. If you work hard, maybe someday one of you will be doing standing here in ten years, telling a new group of young skaters to keep working towards their dreams."

It's cheesy, and Yuri rolls his eyes as Victor returns to talk to Yakov and everyone else starts packing up their things and heading home. But at the same time, Yuri gets an image of himself, but older, showing off a routine that he knew would win gold to young skaters who looked incredibly excited to see their idol, Yuri Plisetsky.

Their coaches told them not to bother Victor because he's a busy man and is being kind enough to take time out of his day to skate for them and so on and so forth. Yuri's heard those reminders, and he meant to follow them, he really did, but he finds himself walking over to Victor and Yakov. He's met Yakov once and Victor never, but even so he calls Victor's name.

Victor turns around and looks at Yuri, confused. "Hello." He says in English.

The coach who leads Yuri's class sees Yuri approach Victor from across the rink, glares at Yuri as if by thinking hard enough she can get Yuri to behave the way she wants him to as she rushes towards them to do damage control.

No one has ever been able to get Yuri to behave the way they want him to.

"Hello," Yuri replies in Russian, intentionally not thinking about the fact that he's potentially being rude to The Victor Nikiforov, "I'm Yuri Plisetsky."

"Nice to meet you, Yuri Plisetsky." Victor replies in Russian, and the switch to his mother tongue emboldens Yuri to continue.

"You said that one of us might be where you are in ten years. Well, that's going to be me."

Yuri doesn't quite know why he's here, talking to Victor Nikiforov in a tone of voice that sounds almost like a challenge, but he's come this far and Yuri Plisetsky does not back down.

"Really?" Victor replies, thankfully sounding amused instead of annoyed. Yakov's face appears to be slowly turning redder and redder. "You think that you can catch up to me in ten years, Yuri Plisetsky?"

Victor draws out all the syllables in his name, in a way that could be interpreted as playful or threatening.

"I can do it in less than ten, Victor Nikiforov." Yuri replies, saying Victor's name the same way.

Victor smiles, a real smile rather than a television smile. "Yuri, did you understand the moral of the story that I skated to? The story Icarus and Daedalus?"

"My wings," Yuri says definitely "Are not made of wax."

Yuri's coach finally reaches them and pulls Yuri away with a hissed " _What do you think you're doing?_  " Victor waves at him as he walks away.

Before he gets pulled out of earshot entirely, Yuri yells back to Victor, "Keep you eyes on me!" His coach squeezes his arm harder, and lectures him the entire walk back to the locker room. She tells him that he was rude, disrespectful, and wasted Victor's precious time. She says that it made him look childish and that it was selfish of him to think he should get to talk to Victor when no one else did.

Yuri ignores her, and she drills him harder the rest of the week as punishment, but then Yakov shows up with Victor to watch one of their practices. Half the students skate better than they ever have on a normal day, and the other half fall on their asses.

Yuri thrives on attention, and he skates better than he ever has before.

His coach is furious when a week later, Yakov comes and asks Yuri if he wants to join the group of skaters that Yakov personally coaches, a group that includes Victor.

Yuri accepts, and it feels like he's flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because Christmas is over doesn't mean that you can't give gifts; if you have any comments/questions/suggestions/etc, I would love to hear them! Commenting helps me write better and also motivates me to update more often, and as an added benefit, I get giddily excited whenever I see a new comment, so if you have the time and inclination, comments would be wonderful (no pressure though, seriously).
> 
> Also, if you ever want to yell with me about Yuri Plisetsky or discuss his character development and relationships at length, you can find me at yuroshka.tumblr.com. I've got some almost-too-long meta posts over at yuroshka.tumblr.com/tagged/yoimeta and I'm literally always happy to think about and discuss Yuri Plisetsky even more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to be canon compliant since I want to get into some of the stuff covered in the anime later, but I don't know everything about Yuri!! on Ice, so if you spot any mistakes, please let me know!
> 
> This is kind of my pet project right now because I'm in a really big Yuri Plisetsky Appreciation Phase right now, so I'm hoping that'll carry me through to help me actually finish this fic. Comments always are a huge help in terms of motivation, so if you liked this or have any comments/questions/suggestions, I would love it if you left a comment here (or you can always come talk to me on tumblr at chunjibolton.tumblr.com)!


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